'And we all get a taste for blood tonight.' - James Blunt, Dangerous

I sip tea calmly at breakfast as I watch my teammates panic.

Lils is shoving food into her mouth as fast as she can. It's her weird way of coping with big events.

Katie, on the other hand, is refusing to eat anything. She's going to regret that later.

Frank is ripping up parchment opposite me. He has violent ways of calming his nerves.

Scor and Ria are making rude gestures at our opponents, the Slytherins. They get very loyal to Gryffindor on match days.

James is carefully going over the plays in his Quidditch book. As his second year as Captain, and a Chaser since second year, he's used to pre-game nerves.

"Right, team." James stands up, stowing away his book. "Let's head down to the Pitch."

We follow him out of the Great Hall. Katie runs ahead to talk to James like the good little Chaser she is, Frank slouches at the back, and Scor and Ria are singing insults at the Slytherin team strutting behind us, leaving me to walk with Lily.

As the only one in my family whom I actually like, Lily and I have always been close.

"All right, Lils?" I grin at her.

She laughs. "Yeah, Al, I'm cool." She loops an arm through mine.

"You know you're going to be sick later from all that food you ate? Remember when you ate a full English breakfast five minutes before the press conference to the Egyptian Ministry and then projectile vomited on the third row of dignitaries?"

"Don't remind me. I've got it under control now. That was your last ever press conference, right?"

I stiffen slightly. "Yes. Mum and dad blamed your sickness on me and I told them to go fuck themselves."

"You were a bad kid." She laughs.

"Still am, baby sis." I pull her closer and sling my arm over her shoulders, messing up her (already messy) red hair.

It may sound soppy, but I love my sister to pieces.

Lily's smile slips slightly. "I wish you'd come to the public stuff that mum and dad make James and I accompany them to. I miss you bitching about all the famous people you see."

"No." I take my arm away and walk slightly faster. I've had this conversation with her too many times.

She matches my pace with quick steps and slips an arm through mine again. "Fine, I'll drop it."

I grin at her. "Good girl."

She gives me the finger. Fiesty. "Al, I'm kinda nervous. Give me some tips or something."

"For the game?"

"Yeah."

"Fuck the Slytherins."

She smirks. "Literally?"

My eyes widen and I shove her. "Fuck no. If you sleep with a Slytherin I'll kill you, then him. Or her, whatever. Lils, you're not having sex; you're only just sixteen; you're a baby!"

She scowls at me. "You lost your virginity when you were fifteen!"

I shrug. "Like you said, I'm bad. Don't follow my example."

Lily glowers. "Whatever. I've already got James being stupidly protective over me, so I don't need you doing it too. You know James actually put a tracking spell on me at the start of the year, so if I went into any boys' dorms, he'd know about it?"

I nod. "For once, he's got it right."

She pokes me. "Shut up. I only just managed to get rid of it."

"Don't have sex."

"Chill, Al, unlike you, I'm a good kid."

I raise an eyebrow sarcastically and Lily opens her mouth to say something else, but she is cut off by Lorcan, who is making his way into the Quidditch stands with Lucien as we approach the Pitch changing rooms for James' customary pre-match pep talk.

"Hey, ginger bitch."

Lily ignores him. Rightfully so; she's not ginger, her hair's dark red.

"Oi, Lily!"

Lorcan smirks when Lily turns to face him. "I'm betting three sickles you'll be in the Hospital Wing by the first ten minutes of the game."

Did I mention Lorcan's a total dickhead? His mum is best friends with my mum, consequently he comes to all our family parties, but he sits in a corner by himself (like I wish I could do, but Rose, Sander and Em just won't leave me alone).

Lily and I are suddenly flanked by Scor and Ria.

"Come on, Lorcy darling, you don't really mean that." Scor's tone is light and playful, but there's a hard edge to it. Tensions always run high on match days, especially when the game is between the long-standing rivals Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Lucien rolls his eyes. "Of course he means it. Grow up, Malfoy."

Ria's expression darkens immediately. "Fuck off, Lucy."

"Oh, touchy touchy. What's got your wand in a twist, Black?" Lucien leans against the green-and-silver stands, looking bored.

It's interesting how he sneers her surname when he shares it too.

"Your ugly son-of-a-bitch face is what's got me feeling sick." Ria shoots back.

"Much as I hate to admit it, you share the same facial features as me. So you're really just insulting yourself, cousin." He hisses the last word as if he can't bear to say it.

But it's true; he has the same high, sharp cheekbones, thin lips and cool eyebrows that the old pureblood rich list share, and he also has the classic wavy black hair and good looks that characterises the Black family descendants.

"Fucker, you wish you looked like me." She turns away, signifying an end to the conversation, but he replies.

"What, are you denying that we're related now, Gryffindor?" He crosses his arms over his chest, eyebrow arched and expression unreadable.

Ria turns to face him again. "No. I'm proud to be a Black; I'm just not proud of the bastards like you who share the same surname, Slytherin. The Black name used to signify honour, until your parents ruined it all."

"They may be my parents, but they're your family too, bitch, so you'd better get over it." With that, he sweeps off up the stairs to the Slytherin stands, with Lorcan stalking after him, leaving Ria fuming.

"I - " She starts to rant, but Scor places a calming hand on her back and swiftly leads her into the changing rooms.

Lily and I share a look and follow them in.

This is one of the rare moments when I actually feel grateful for a family like mine.

"Al, did you hear anything I just said?"

I look up to see the entire team staring at me, Scor and Ria grinning.

"No." I shrug at James, who is looking vaguely annoyed.

"Whatever." He rolls his eyes, used to me tuning out pre-game speeches.

"Hey, James?" Katie pipes up timidly. James nods at her and she carries on. "Why aren't we wearing helmets?"

After the War, the Ministry got a tiny bit worried about Health and Safety at Hogwarts and issued the House Quidditch teams with helmets.

I mean, forget about the man-eating creatures in the nearby Forbidden Forest and students shooting dangerous curses at each other in DADA; let's just worry about motherfucking Quidditch. The Ministry are fucking stupid.

James shakes his head proudly. "The other teams are wimps to wear those helmets. We're Gryffindor, the courageous ones, we don't need idiotic helmets."

"But if a bludger hits someone's head, it could kill them!" Katie looks anxious. Little newbie.

James leans down and pats her on the head. "That's what our Beaters are for." He gestures to Ria, who winks at Katie, and Frank, who is swinging his bat experimentally.

A whistle sounds from outside the changing room, and we stand up, quickly positioning ourselves in front of the doors to the Pitch, with me at the front next to James.

He nods to me and I ignore him, slipping in my contact lenses.

Once the Slytherin team have been introduced (with way too many compliments), the doors slide open, letting in the warm sunlight and the fresh smell of grass and excitement.

"AND HERE COME THOSE GRYFFINDORS."

"JAMES POTTER, CAPTAIN, CHASER, AND THE ONLY REASON WHY GRYFFINDOR EVEN THINK THEY HAVE A CHANCE OF BEATING SLYTHERIN."

"ALBUS POTTER, GRYFFINDOR SEEKER, WHO REPORTEDLY HAS HERPES, SO STAY AWAY, LADIES."

"FRANK JONES, THE NEW BEATER, CLEARLY STRONG SO WATCH OUT SLYTHERIN."

"RIA BLACK, BITCH."

"MR SCAMANDER, WATCH YOUR MOUTH."

"WHATEVER, MCGONAGALL. FINE, RIA BLACK, GRYFFINDOR BEATER. HAPPY NOW?"

"NOW WE HAVE SCORPIUS MALFOY, CHASER AND FIRST MALFOY IN GRYFFINDOR, THE TRAITOROUS…..boy."

"AND THE THIRD GRYFFINDOR CHASER, KATIE SINATRA, HOPEFULLY SMALL ENOUGH FOR THE SLYHERIN BEATERS TO GET RID OF AND LEAVE NO EVIDENCE."

"NOW LAST AND OF COURSE THE LEAST, LILY POTTER, THE KEEPER. DOES ANYONE ELSE SEE A BIT OF NEPOTISM HERE FROM THE CAPTAIN?"

I flip off Lorcan, who is commentating.

I circle up into the air, opposite the idiot Slytherin Seeker, revelling in the applause and squeals for me (and my team).

I lean over my broom to watch as James and the Slytherin Captain unwillingly shake hands, and Madam Flue steps into the middle of the Pitch.

"This should be a clean game, teams. No fouls, all right?"

Yeah, right. No fouls in a Lions vs Snakes match? She must be high or at least extremely delirious if she thinks no one's going to be carted off to the Hospital Wing today.

"THE SNITCH IS RELEASED." I follow the tiny gold ball with my eyes, determinedly ignoring the Slytherin Seeker, who is flat-out staring at me. Who does he think he is, trying to intimidate me? I'm the fucking son of the Boy Who Lived.

"THE BLUDGERS ARE OUT." I snort when the bludgers immediately fly up, nearly decapitating the enemy Seeker.

"THE QUAFFLE IS RELASED, AND THE GAME BEGINS."

Two hours later, and I am crowd surfing the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs cheering in the Pitch.

I love this. The great thing about being a Seeker is that when I win us the match, the crowd tends to forget about the other players and focus on the guy who just caught a snitch. The shouts and cheers, all for me.

I'm pretty sure the Slytherin Seeker was only accepted onto the team to intimidate his opponents into letting him win, but it didn't work on me. 'Cos I'm just too cool.

And because I've watched too many showdowns between Ria and Lucien, which are full of subtle intimidation tactics. Like how I would imagine an argument between two Slytherins would be, except Ria's not a Slytherin. The funny thing is, I think she would have fitted right into the 'evil' House, but she's still a Gryffindor through and through.

Speaking of which … "PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM!" she yells, and grabs Scor's hand, wrenching him from a passionate embrace with Rose, and hightailing it back up to our common room.

I jump back onto solid ground before I am dropped, as the crowd cheers and rushes up to the castle.

Well, I guess the crowd-surfing's over then.

Tonight I'm getting wasted. I'm drinking shot after shot after shot, full to the brim of firewhiskey, still dressed in my Quidditch clothes so people don't forget that it's me who won them the match.

Lysander just shakes his head at me and passes me the whole bottle, giving me up as a lost cause. The party is loud and raucous, with even the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws turning up for a famous Gryffindor celebration party. We Gryffies are well-known for making the most out of any possible cause for celebration.

In fact, our parties come second only to the Slytherin parties. I may hate the Slytherins, but even I'm not denying that their parties are the shit. Completely dark except for one strobe light, the ample supplies of strong alcohol spiked with all manner of potions, loud music that would raise the roof off if it were anywhere other than in a common room under the Black Lake, people snorting cocaine in the corners, and girls and guys walking around in just lingerie. I practically live for those parties.

But our parties aren't that bad. They're still fun, and there's still girls and alcohol, so I'm still happy.

The girls gathered around me at the makeshift bar cuddle up even closer, but I ignore them to instead ask Lysander for more firewhiskey, however his gaze focuses behind me. I turn around to see what he's looking at, and grin. Emma is skipping down the girls' stairs in a soft yellow, cute little floaty dress. I clumsily wave at her, but she doesn't see me, and runs over to join a friend at the snacks table. Rose is already snogging her boyfriend on the couch in front of the fire, so it's Ria who comes down the stairs after Em, dressed in gold discopants and a baggy scarlet Gryffindor sweater.

Can I just say that gold discopants get me really excited? Godric, I just want to take them off with my teeth and -

I moan and my fangirls giggle as they slide their hands over my tight Quidditch pants.

"Right, that's enough from you." Lysander swiftly walks around the bar and pushes away the girls, hauling me up and pushing me up the boys' stairs.

"If this is your reaction from the mere sight of your best friend in discopants then there's no way I'm letting you near her tonight. So go up and get to bed."

I scowl at him, but he stands at the bottom of the stairs until I have no choice but to slowly (and very drunkenly) make my way up the steps and into my dorm.

After a good old sulk, I take a cold shower which sobers me up a bit, and resentfully fall asleep, blocking out the music from the raging party going on without me downstairs.